


crossed for old times, like starting over

by paradajka



Category: Invaders (Marvel), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Coffee, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradajka/pseuds/paradajka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four days after the Terrigen Cloud passes over New York Maria calls Steve into her office. She pushes a file labelled "Thomas Raymond" across the desk and Steve is almost surprised by how little he finds this surprising.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crossed for old times, like starting over

**Author's Note:**

> What started as an attempt at making sense of the fact that Steve had to have known what was going on with Toro turned into an overwhelming fascination with the fact that of all the Invaders these two are the least close. So here's an exploration of that.

They compare dates once and, as it turns out, when Toro came back to life Steve was dead.

Technically.

Legally, at any rate.

He might have mentioned how much of a mess it was to get that corrected. Lots of paperwork. Lots of phone calls. One of the less glamourous parts of his life, and one that would have been a lot easier if he hadn't "died" in a way that left no one questioning whether or not he was really dead.

"It's a great problem to have in some ways, suddenly being back among the living, but on the other hand it's kind of a hassle, you know?"

"I wouldn't," Toro says bluntly. Memory doesn't compare to being around someone and Steve still marvels at how much he sounds like Jim sometimes. Or maybe it's the other way around.

Toro doesn't say anything else, just stirs his coffee with disinterest. Steve remembers belatedly that Jim's the only one of the two who likes the stuff; Toro never had. 

"Well, if you need any help I can arrange—"

"Look, thanks Steve, but no. It's easier to just stay dead."

"Because of Ann?" It has to be, doesn't it?

"You know about—"

"We met years ago. She's a lovely woman."

"Yeah. She's something else." A smile ghosts across his face. "But if I'm alive it's going to cause some problems. She remarried. Two kids. And don't say it. I'm not going to show up and ruin that. I'm sure it was bad enough."

"Well, when I last saw her she seemed to be doing pretty well."

"Yeah?" That was the right thing to say, Steve can tell. "Good."

"You haven't talked to her, I take it."

"Easier that way."

"For her."

"I'm _dead_ , Steve." Toro's hands clench into fists, sparking slightly. "My feelings don't matter."

"Well, you're not any more, Tom." His name sounds foreign on Steve's lips, and he honestly can't remember ever using it before. "That's what you go by now, right?"

"I did. Mostly. You can call me Toro, though; it's fine. Jim still does."

"How are things with the two of you?"

"Good. They're... It's weird. I buried him, you know. He was gone and I never thought he'd come back. You and Buck, too. I'm not used to thinking of you guys as alive. I'm barely used to thinking of _myself_ as alive."

"All the better reason to make it official." Toro gives him a look, and he quickly adds, "I'm not suggesting you go back to your old life, not if you don't want to. But you need an identity of some kind. And what kind of friend would I be if I didn't help you get it?"

**

It's not difficult to procure a false identity for Toro. After all, there are plenty of reasons one of their kind will need one, some even more complicated than coming back from the dead.

The difficult part comes when they meet up so Steve can hand over all the documents.

"You know, Tom, we can always use more help out there," he says. He has to at least ask.

"On the front lines, you mean. Superhero stuff."

"Well, yeah. That's one way to put it."

Toro's quiet for a moment before he finally answers. "Thanks for the offer, but I'm— It's not for me."

Steve can tell he's biting back on saying he's not a hero because he doesn't want the lecture that would come with it. And one thing he does remember about Toro — quite vividly, in fact — is that when he gets to thinking something it's almost impossible to convince him to look at it another way. 

"Well, the offer stands if you ever change your mind." 

"I won't."

"Fair enough. But if you need some help finding a job I have a lot of pull at SHIELD. I don't mean putting you out in the field," he adds quickly, lest Toro think he's still trying to convince him to come back to saving the world full time. "Behind the scenes. Your experience would be valuable there."

"Right. Like they'd let someone like me keep a desk job at SHIELD."

"You'd be surprised what they'd allow under my orders."

**

Time passes, as it tends to do. After Vliet Steve doesn't see Toro for a long while, just hears the occasional story from Jim about what he's up to.

He's busy. They're all busy.

**

The weeks following Bucky's "death" are emotionally taxing for many reasons. Finding out he's alive after all offers a bit of comfort, but honoring his friend's legacy while stepping back into his old role stretches the limits of what Steve can handle.

Jim invites him over his first day off (to whatever extent Captain America — it's strange to call himself that again — can ever have a day off). They keep in touch, as much as they can, though their lives seem to be heading in different directions these days.

"Toro's here," Jim says like an apology as he opens the door. "I didn't know he was coming by."

"It's fine," Steve tells him. "Maybe it'll be good for all of us to talk."

"Like old times." Jim smiles and ushers him in to the kitchen, where Toro sits at the breakfast table, staring at a glass of water like it holds some answers. 

"How are you holding up?" Steve asks, sitting down next to him.

"How do you think? Feels like I just got him back, and now..."

"It's the same for me," Steve says, because that was true until not too long ago. He's not sure what else he can say. That Bucky died a hero and this is one of the risks that comes with the lifestyle will only mean so much to someone who chooses to stay out of it.

"It's the same for all of us, I think," Jim adds, handing a mug of coffee over to Steve before sitting down with his own.

"Doesn't make it any easier knowing that," Toro says.

"Well, I don't think it's supposed to get easier."

"I'm sure he wouldn't want you to dwell on it," Steve tells him. Bucky had said as much. _"Make sure the guys don't take it too hard, okay? Wouldn't be fair, considering."_

"You're probably right. Sorry for derailing whatever conversation you came over to have. I wanted to tell you, though. I watched the funeral on TV. I'm glad he got one this time. And he would have liked your speech."

Steve had invited Toro and Jim both to the official funeral and every wake he knew of (and there were a lot). They had as much a right to be there as anyone else. Probably more. They'd both declined. 

"Yeah, he's got a knack for them all right," Jim says. "When I had to fake my death for a while he gave one pretty similar. I don't think there was a dry eye in the house."

Toro's hands tighten around his water and Steve can feel the heat radiating off of him before he notices it start to steam and evaporate.

"Sorry." Jim puts a hand on his shoulder. "Probably not the best time to tell that one."

"It's fine," Toro says, shrugging off his touch. "Really, Jim. I'll be fine. Just don't wanna talk about it."

Steve would feel worse about keeping this from them if he didn't know it would jeopardize Bucky's safety, his _freedom_ to tell anyone he was alive.

**

The last time they speak is not too long after Jim saves the world by destroying the Descendants, after Steve attends a meeting with the remains of the Secret Avengers to discuss where he might be and if they should go after him. Eventually it's decided that he'll come back when he's ready, but that doesn't stop Steve from doing a bit of investigative work on his own.

He knows Toro won't come to him (won't go anywhere near the places where Captain America might be needed for something) so he treks out to the university he's discovered his old friend is studying at (SHIELD keeps tabs on people like him, like _them_ , maybe more than Steve would like, but it does come in handy in situations like these). Ends up at the campus Starbucks nursing a latte while Toro glares at him from across the table.

"So I guess that's why he stopped calling," he says bitterly as Steve finishes his story.

"He hasn't contacted you, then?"

"Not in a while. Figures he wouldn't want to tell me what he was doing, though."

Steve had suspected as much. Jim hadn't explicitly said why he was so glad to be out of the public eye this time around, and there were probably a few reasons for it, but Toro's feelings toward the superhero world, especially in the wake of Bucky's "death", probably played into it.

"Well, I'm sure..." he starts to say.

"You're not, though. Not really. And you think _I'd_ have a better idea of figuring out where he is. That I'd want to help you find him when he obviously doesn't want to be found."

"I was just hoping, that's all. You know how he gets, better than anyone. Being out there on his own could be dangerous."

"I think you and I have very different ideas of what's dangerous."

"I don't think that's true at all," Steve says, picking up his drink and realizing it's almost empty. "I'm thinking of getting another cup. Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"You know," Toro says, "the last time someone was this insistent about discussing Jim over coffee it was drugged."

That gives Steve pause. He remembers Jim telling him something about this ( _"the Mad Thinker drugged him and brainwashed him into thinking he was me"_ ), but doesn't remember anything about coffee. 

"I didn't know," he finally replies.

Toro looks at him for a long second. "You wouldn't. I've got class soon; I'd better go," he adds, standing up. He turns to leave, turns back. "Look, about Jim. I hope you're right. I hope he'll come to me. But I can't promise you anything."

**

The Inhumans are a problem on top of many problems, one Steve isn't sure anyone fully grasps the scope of. SHIELD does what it can, picks up cocoons before someone else gets their hands on them. Waits for the new Inhumans ( _Nuhumans_ , Medusa calls them) to hatch so they can be evaluated. Lets them rejoin society once they can control their powers enough not to be a danger.

Four days after the Terrigen Cloud passes over New York Maria calls Steve into her office. She pushes a file labelled "Thomas Raymond" across the desk and Steve is almost surprised by how little he finds this surprising. He leafs through it, though the contents are pretty sparse.

"I thought you should know," she tells him. "I don't think there's anyone else we can contact."

"No," Steve says. "There isn't."

"And you know we can't make an exception to our usual protocol, just because he's your friend."

"I understand. He's not gonna be happy about it, though."

"Well, depending on how the Terrigen effects him he might not have much of a compelling argument against keeping him here. You can see from the file exactly why they want him under close observation."

He does, though the only records they have on his old friend are as detailed as most records dating back over sixty years, which isn't very. Add on the fact that most reference him as a possible mutant, and the question marks start piling up. The main concern seems to be that they don't know how the Horton cells already in his body will react with the Terrigen, and since his powers were volatile to begin with they're preparing for worst case scenarios by expecting more of the same.

Maria's right that they have reason to keep him isolated, not that Toro will be thrilled to hear it.

"Put a note on his file, then. When he's out of there I want to be notified." Steve owes him that at least. Sit down face to face and explain what's going on.

It wouldn't be right away, though. That he could be sure of. He'd probably be off in a different city or a different country. Maybe even a different planet. Alien threats didn't wait for everything else to be settled and wars didn't let up because you had something important to do.

That's why running across Jim is such good fortune, even if the circumstances are less than ideal. 

The offer to join SHIELD is something he would have put out anyway. He isn't lying when he says Jim is exactly the kind of guy he wants working there. It's just more important for him to be there now because of Toro. Because maybe if the two of them are together it will make this whole thing easier. 

**

In the weeks following the unexpected Invaders reunion Steve finds himself thinking a lot about the mission Bucky, Jim, and Namor had hidden from him all these years. Not so much about the mission itself, but how they managed to keep it from him, managed to hide something that important without him so much as suspecting. About old secrets and how they always come out eventually.

In all honestly he wouldn't be able to pin down the exact time it took place if Jim hadn't mentioned Toro having appendicitis. His memory of that begins with returning to the base and finding the rest of his team gone.

 _Where's everyone else?" he asked Toro, looking around to see where the others were._

_"They got sent out on a mission."_

_"And what made them leave you behind?" Steve gave him a once-over, seeing the reason just as Toro said, "Appendicitis."_

_"I'm fine now, though," he added quickly. "It's not even gonna leave a scar." It was pretty clear that it wouldn't. The incision was a barely-visible slice across his stomach, just slightly pinker than the rest of his skin. "I could've gone with them but the painkillers weren't really working, and they burn off faster when I do."_

_They never mentioned to the base medics how exactly Toro and Namor were any different from the rest of the men that came through. 'Mutant' didn't mean much back then, and even if the doctors knew how to properly deal with them they wouldn't necessarily have been able to access the right supplies. Medications being too strong or not strong enough were an unfortunate side effect of their physiology, especially in Toro's case, it seemed._

_"Are you supposed to be out of bed?"_

_The only response Steve got was a shrug._

_"I see."_

_"You aren't gonna tell, are you? Pappy'd have kittens if he knew I was doing anything other than sleeping. I just thought you'd like if someone was here to welcome you back," he added sullenly._

_"Well I appreciate the sentiment, but you really should be resting."_

Toro had stormed off after that and Steve hadn't so much as heard from him until the others were back. Thinking about it, he can't recall many other times they were alone together in the '40's.

**

The next time they're able to sit down and talk again — no coffee this time, Steve remembers, not that he can stomach it anymore anyway — it's more apparent than it's ever been just how much time has passed since those days.


End file.
